Our Whispered Beginning
by kate-7h
Summary: When the goddess Sakura finds a homeless, nameless spirit in the desert of Clow, she gives him a place. Syaoran works to understand his new place as a regalia to Sakura, and what it means to be human. Meanwhile, a spirit named Youou serves under his own goddess of dreams, and a vagrant god runs south, away from his past. An AU created with the concepts from Noragami.
1. Lost and Found

**A/N:** Hello! Welcome to the first chapter of the first installment of our sprawling Noragami AU, or as we've called it Holitsugami (get it, Holic, Tsubasa, Noragami... eh? eh?) It has been a year long project, following semi-canon events, telling the tale of the main characters of the CLAMP universe as gods, spirits, and humans, protecting the human world from all things otherworldly.

Hello! So Ari (Arisprite), Rémy (names are hard guys on and username_goes_here on AO3) and I have been plotting this since last January, and we have much written in both sides of the story, this Tsubasa side, and the xxxHolic side which you can find on Ari's , our AO3 accounts where we have the series set up, and on our individual tumblrs.

We encourage you to read both sides of the story, as, like xxxHolic and Tsubasa themselves, the two stories will be sisters, with intertwining parts, and plots.

This is the first story of three. Probably.

Also, Kurogane's name in this is Youou, and there is a reason for that.

Please let us know if there are any warnings we need to use. Characters are spirits, and so, are dead, but we're not tagging character death... unless they actually disappear from the story. But, things may get dark, and I'd hate to upset anyone. However, be aware this story is rated T for reasons.

* * *

 _Where am I?_ The boy thought as he lay on the hard ground, light illuminating red against his closed eyelids. _Who am I?_

There was nothing in his mind, just a vacuum of blank space where his memories should have been. It scared him and he shut his eyes tighter, trying to hide from that void.

Although, he did know things. General information, such as language and speech. He knew the heat of the daylight in this desert world, and he knew that when the sun set it would become frigid. These things weren't memories, there was nothing specific to him, or any indication that he'd ever learned these things. They were simply there, facts ingrained into his brain. But the lack of memories didn't make sense. Somehow he knew he should have them but… didn't.

He opened his eyes to the brightness of the sun. Dust streamed in the rays of light through the splintered wood and rubbled rocks above and around him. Sitting up, he observed that he was sitting in some sort of quarry, caved in on itself. There were steep walls surrounding him as he sat at the bottom of a deep pit. There were bits of debris and sand in his hair and on his robe. He brushed them off as he took in the larger rocks and beams scattered around him and the distance above, Had he fallen? Had the structure collapsed underneath him? He didn't know, but if it had, he'd been very lucky.

Or had he?

He pushed the thought away, feeling fear settling into him for reasons he didn't understand. Standing, the white robe tied around him draped down, brushing the top of his bare feet and the sharp rocks on the ground dug into them. He ignored that and looked up the steep walls. Sitting alone in the musty shadows would get him nowhere. He needed more information and his questions needed answering. And to do that, he needed to find someone. _Anyone._ Trying to shove the uneasy fear from his mind, he grasped the wall and began to climb.

It hurt as he shoved his bare feet into makeshift footholds, his fingers scraping the wall. The boy ignored it and continued upward. He had to get out, get his bearings. Do something. Pausing to catch his breath, he leaned his head against his hand, which was still gripping the wall. As he moved to climb again, the fingers of that hand caught his eye. Or, that is to say, the lack of fingers. At each tip, they were semi-translucent; the rock wall behind easily visible through them.

Startled, he let go without thinking. He fell the few feet he'd already climbed and landed on his back to the ground again. He gasped, the unsettled dust flying around him as he tried to catch his breath. He stared up at the blue sky until it stopping spinning.

 _I don't belong here_ , He realized acutely. The world in which he lay was the world of the living. But he _wasn't._ He knew that somehow. Whatever life he'd had was gone from him. It had ended before he'd woken in this pit.

 _I'm dead?_ Fear returned as he squinted at the high sun. It groped at his insides and made tears fall down his face. He lifted his arm, covering his eyes. _How?_

 _Why?_

After a few minutes, he sat up again and wiped his face dry. He looked up the wall with determination. He had no idea what was going on, but dead or alive he was still at the bottom of this pit. Alone and without answers. He needed to act, to move. Grasping the wall once more, he began to climb.

The wall was high, taller than he'd entirely expected. Standing at the bottom had skewed the true perspective. Despite being dead, his toes and fingers were bleeding a little, his muscles shaking. But he pressed on, set on that ledge above him.

Just as he grasped it, a hand appeared in front of him, open to aid him. He tried to look up to see their face, but the sun shone from behind them, obscuring the features. Without another thought, he reached up and grasped the small hand. Together with the stranger, he hauled himself the rest of the way from the cliff edge.

He collapsed on the ground, panting. As he was catching his breath, he nearly forgot about the person who'd helped him up the last bit. That is, until the person began patting his back comfortingly. He rolled over and got to his knees, looking up at them. The person was a girl, not more than sixteen or seventeen years old. Her hair was a light reddish-brown, gold strands shining in the sun and dry desert breeze. Her green eyes shone just as bright, if not more luminously. She smiled sweetly at him.

"Are you alright?"

For a moment, all he could do was stare. Sure, he hadn't seen much, but she was more breathtakingly beautiful than anything he could imagine. In response to her question, he nodded mutely.

"Your hands! And your feet!" She exclaimed. She reached out and pulled his hand out to examine his torn up fingertips. "We'll have to get these bandaged right away!"

He blinked, feeling his face heat up at the sudden contact. They weren't bleeding very much, and they hardly hurt. The dirt and grime just made them look worse than they were.

"I'm okay, uh…" Trailing off, he gingerly pulled his hand back.

Her face turned red, and she let go of him immediately, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to um…"

He found himself smiling at her, "Thank you, for helping me."

She beamed, "I'm glad I found you! Kero-chan said he saw an uncorrupted spirit stuck down here, so I came to see."

"Eh?-"

"So," She clapped her hands together in excitement. "Would you like to be my regalia? I mean, I'll treat your wounds whether you want to be or not. It's entirely your choice."

His brow scrunched in confusion, "W-what?"

"Oh, I guess I should have introduced myself first," She was suddenly flustered again, tucking her hair behind her ear only for it to fall down again. She inclined her head slightly, "My name is Sakura, a god of fortune, and I guess you can't introduce yourself yet…"

She knew he didn't know his name? He was confused for a moment, before the rest of her words hit him.

"God-?" He gasped out. She was a _god?!_ He jerked forward, bowing low as his face flushed.

Sakura laughed as she nodded, "So, would you like me to give you a name?"

He sat up again, "I don't understand, Sakura-sama."

"Well no one expects you to know yet, you're brand new to this," She shrugged. "Regalia are the servants of the gods. We give them names and they become divine instruments for their master. Would you like to be mine?"

He blinked down to the ground, processing the new information. She was a god, couldn't she restore to him his memory? But since she was offering a new name, maybe she didn't have that sort of power. He had a million questions, but he couldn't figure out the words to ask just one. He was scared and confused and alone. There was no where else for him to go.

Looking back to the god's kind face, he made his decision. If he stayed with her and became her servant, he would have the time and opportunities to ask the questions he needed answering. But aside from that, she was so warm. He wanted to be in that presence more.

And he didn't want to be alone again.

"Yes, Sakura-sama. I will be your regalia," He stated with determination. "I will do my best to serve you."

Again, Sakura blushed a little before smiling sweetly. Then standing, she closed her eyes and pointed at him with her first and second fingers pressed together. White light illuminated from them as she traced her hand through the air.

"You, with nowhere to go and nowhere to return to. I grant you a place to belong."

Her eyes opened and he swore her green irises were almost glowing. Suddenly she was no longer the blushing young girl, but the pinnacle of an eternal god.

"My name is Sakura. Bearing a posthumous name, you shall remain here. With this name I make thee my servant. With this name and it's alternate. I use my life to make thee a regalia. Thou art Ran. As regalia, Hien."

She lowered her hand, then swept her arm in and arched out, sending the completed character towards him. It stamped itself on him, piercing his soul. Defining him. He felt the light burn as it seared itself onto the back of his shoulder.

"Come, Hien!" She shouted, reaching to him. That white light surrounded him. He raised his arms, shielding his face as a reflex. It twisted around him until he was absorbed in it, it transforming him. And then he felt her hand grip him, but he wasn't himself anymore. He was long, almost taller than she was. His surface was smooth wood, like a tree beaten and degraded by many years of sandstorms.

 _I'm a staff?_ It was all very disorienting. To become something else so suddenly. He felt incredibly strange.

"Syaoran," Sakura said softly, with resolution.

Then as if nothing had happened, he was himself again. The light dissipated as he collapsed to the ground, blinking dazedly. He moved to stand again, his robe swishing with the movement. He looked down to his hands, the fingers dirty and bloody, but complete. No longer fading away to nothing. He felt stronger as well, not so much in his body, but in his spirit. It was hard to completely understand, and harder still to put into words. There was something inside him, at the core of his very existence, that wasn't there before. It grounded him, solidified him.

He looked up to her with excitement, with awe, but those quickly turned into concern as he saw her. Tears were falling down her face, which she hastily brushed away. But there was still a small smile gracing her lips.

"What's wrong?" He fretted, lifting his hands up in her direction. He stopped though, unsure of what to do with them.

"It's nothing," Sakura muttered, wiping the water away. "Well Syaoran, let's go home and take care of your injuries."

They had started walked, but he stopped mid-step, "That's my name?"

"Yup!" Sakura nodded happily. "Your name is Ran, and as a vessel, Hien, and as a person, Syaoran."

He let out a breath, feeling a little bit overwhelmed. His hand pressed to his chest as warmth filled him. Warmth, which had nothing to do with the desert sun, settling pleasantly in his heart.

Sakura bowed her head, her fingers touched to her own heart. She let out a contented sigh and grasped his hand, "Let's go home."

"Yes," He replied with a nod and a blush.

 _Syaoran_. He found himself grinning happily as Sakura dragged him down the sandy path.

* * *

Youou swung his sword. The blade cut through the air like nothing else, almost no resistance through the wind. Sweat was clinging to the underlayer of his yukata, and Youou could feel his breath shortening just a bit, even in the cool temperatures of Heaven's eveningfall. The air was fragrant and almost sharp as Youou made even strokes, his movements precise and perfect. His hands gripped the wrapped leather of the handle, feeling the enchantments that had been laid into the long, plain katana that his goddess, Tomoyo had acquired for him centuries ago. The metal was well cared for, and still just as sharp as it had been the day he'd gotten it, when he'd sliced his thumb open on the fine edge. He was more careful now.

As he swung the sword, his eyes caught flashes of the kanji on the back of his right hand, that named him and spelled out who he was, (You, short for Youou, as a regalia Kanzashi), Tomoyo had given him that.

Youou took a breath as he finished his kata, bringing the blade to a halt, before he whirled and sliced up the belly of a straw stuffed practice dummy. It's insides began to fall, but not before two other strokes sliced it into four pieces. He let it fall to the ground with a smirk of pride, at his speed, his strength. He paused, blade extended, before he shouted, and flipped, bringing the sword down in a final, killing stroke.

"Borderline!" he yelled, and a wave of white light emerged from the edge of the blade, slicing down the pole the dummy had rested again, as well as the corn stalks that waved in the field distant. Youou relaxed his stance, and huffed.

There was a slow clap from behind him, and Youou cursed to see the only person in all of Heaven and earth (aside from Tomoyo herself) who could sneak up on him.

"What is it, Souma?" he snapped at his former teacher. She smiled, her sharp haircut falling in front of her face, but in nowise gentling her features.

"I admire how hard you practice, Youou, but don't you think you're overdoing it?" Souma said. "You've been out here for hours. Worried you're not good enough?"

Youou growled. "I'm plenty good." He'd better be after two hundred years.

Souma smiled, still teasing. "Then why don't you just relax a little? The world isn't ending right now."

Souma did have a right to suggest he rest. She had been his trainer in the sword and other things, when he'd first come to this temple, as a new regalia, wide eyed, angry and confused. It was because of her and her lover (another of Tomoyo's regalia) Kendappa that he didn't blight Tomoyo first thing, with the state of his emotions then.

But still.

"You're as annoying as ever, Souma," Youou growled, and walked off towards the main body of the temple.

He, Souma, and Kendappa were regalia to Tomoyo, the goddess of dreams, moonlight and the night. She lived in her temple in Heaven, with a corresponding shrine on earth, and had many followers and believers. She spent her time caring for the people who believed in her, giving good dreams, and keeping an eye on the bad ones. She also always eased the nightmares of children.

Youou had also heard, in the two centuries he'd served her, that she could see the future, that her own dreams were a seer's visions, and if she spoke them aloud, then they'd come true. Youou had never seen any evidence of that, yea or nay, but if Tomoyo told him it were so, he'd probably believe it.

Youou entered the temple complex, mostly halls of worship and ceremony, with small living quarters in the back. The three of them were Tomoyo's only regalia, as it was harder on a god the more regalia they had. Youou had a living quarters, a large bath, and access to the full temple. Down below, on earth, Tomoyo's followers were happy and solid, and life was peaceful.

This was probably the very reason that Youou practiced for hours with the katana.

In different times, in the days when Youou had been found, a weak, angry spirit, hovering over bloodstained land with no memories of how he got there, or who he was, Tomoyo had needed a warrior. Protection, and strength were why she'd picked him, and why she had Souma and Kendappa. The goddess of the night was powerful, and she warred with other gods for the right to be remembered. For those who were remembered carried on, even after death. Tomoyo had never been killed, never needed to reincarnate, but he was glad to have the reassurance that she would return again, even if it was as a memoryless child. It would still be her.

Not that he intended on letting her die. Ever.

It had been a different time back then, when ayakashi were large, and active, and they targeted regalia and humans alike. Tomoyo had used all three of their forms in battle… but Youou's fighting form was useless without her, so he'd learned the sword on his own as well. Souma and Kendappa had trained him in the warrior's way very well.

Youou cleaned off, and changed into fresh clothes, tying the sash around his waist, and the sword belt to that, even though the clothes were far too casual for that. Then there was a soft knock on his door.

"Youou," said the owner of the knock, and Youou turned to face his goddess. Tomoyo stood in his doorway, looking gentle as always, her small form draped in formal kimono and a delicate headdress. She gave off the impression of fragility, but if she moved a certain way, then you could see the iron center to her nature. The girl was stubborn as she was graceful.

"Tomoyo-hime." Youou bowed. She smiled.

"Youou, I've told you that you don't need to call me a princess," she said, smiling.

"Humph," he replied. Youou called her a princess, because that had been the first thing he said when he became aware, sure that this girl in her shining robes and gentille smile must be a princess. By this point, it was a habit.

Tomoyo laughed behind her hand, and sobered a little, looking right into him, as she had the right to do.

"I have sensed your emotions, as of late," she said, and Youou looked down, those emotions rising up. She nodded, lifting a finger. "Why are you angry, Youou?"

Youou clenched his fist, and tried to control himself.

"Souma was bugging me," he said, which was true.

Tomoyo shook her head. "No, that's not the whole picture…" Tomoyo breathed out, letting her hand fall to clasp in front of her. "If you're bored, I can find you things to do."

Youou growled, turning away so his princess didn't have to see his face. It wasn't boredom, exactly, as much as growing sense of dream, of restlessness, that things had been peaceful for too long.

"I heard you destroyed another practice dummy."

"Yeah, so? That's what they're for," Youou replied, and Tomoyo breathed out, pulling back the presence of her power.

"I suppose you're right. You should rest. We have a night of dreaming ahead of us."

Youou turned back, and nodded. "Yes, milady."

* * *

The old chapel had blood on the floor. It was on the crackled tile, seeping into the places the plaster underneath showed through. It was spattered up onto the walls, where strange, decidedly non-religious artwork hung. It was on the couch, that had the spring that jabbed Fai's tailbone, every time he sat there, smoking a cigarette and lounging with the other gods. They were all dead.

Fai knelt, so there was blood on his knees too, panting and staring at the scene. The usual scene, apparently, as Ashura had done this before, again and again. Nine gods and regalia were dead, killed. And in the midst of it, the man was sleeping, his long black hair spread out around him. He wouldn't wake, not for a while, anyway. Fai had made sure.

Fai breathed heavily, and closed his eyes to the sights around him, trying to hide, to ignore, to go back to the life he had been living before, here with the other no-name gods, trying not to disappear.

Then, Ashura shifted. His magic was strong, after all, strong enough to save him, all those centuries ago. He shifted, and Fai ran.

Fai D. Flourite settled back into the seat of the train, taking in the warm aura of the evening travellers, smelling like perfume and money. He enjoyed riding the train, he'd found over the centuries. Everything in his head would calm, the thoughts that circled around themselves were dulled by the noise of the tracks, blurring into background noise. He could _think_. Or not think, as tended to be his habit.

 _Gods, how hadn't he noticed?_

Fai rubbed his face, and tried to push away the thoughts. It was nice to be out of the cold. He didn't have a shrine ( _or a temple or worshippers or friends or regalia or anything_ ) and so he had nowhere to go. The north was a cold, poor and bitter place, and he'd been lucky to sneak aboard this train where the last of the rich blew their savings on travel to warmer countries.

Shifting in his seat, Fai realized he'd been pressing his knees to his chest, and so he lowered them. He was a god. He had power immeasurable, and he could protect himself. He'd been doing it for years after all, as Ashura had trained him well. Ashura was strong, but he was stronger. And, if he found him… well, he'd cross that bridge if or when it ever came to that.

Which it wouldn't.

Ever.

Shaking off the thoughts, and the clawing sense of pursuit, Fai wriggled downwards into the not-as-soft-as-it-could-be cushion. It wasn't a cheap train: heading through the borders was pricey- not really something the layman would ever attempt. But Fai thought that the quarters could be a _little_ more comfortable, to say nothing of on board meals and drinks. Ah, he could go for a drink right now.

He got situated, with his feet up on the dark window, twisted on the seat. Then, he blinked, and turned his head towards the aisle, almost having to bend backwards to do it. Fai came face to face with an upside-down child.

Well, he supposed he was the upside-down one, wasn't he?

The child, a little girl with curly blonde pigtails, and a thick fur coat - obviously her family was rich enough to take this train, but poor enough to not pay a nanny to keep track of the little brat - was staring at him with her finger in her mouth. It was always such an odd feeling to be stared at, given that he was mostly unnoticeable to the general populace.

Then she poked his nose with a slobbery finger.

"Ewww!" Fai flailed upright, twisting around to wipe off the drool, wincing dramatically. "Blegh."

She giggled. The little monster. He sent her a glare.

"What?" he said, still rubbing at his face. She was smiling, tipping up to her toes and back down again, surprisingly balanced for the movement of the train (which had definitely /not/ made Fai wobble a bit when he first got up to search for food - of which there was none)

She babbled, something about potatoes and a kitty, interspersed with la la las. Ugh, children…

He straightened up, and began to gently push the child away.

"Alright, little one. Time to go back to your family…" He desperately looked around for anyone who might be missing a child. No one looked remotely interested, or even like they should be rearing children. Fai slumped, before rubbing his forehead. "Fine...I'll help you find your parents...if I must."

The brat wouldn't move unless he let her hold on to his finger, so with her moist grip around his index finger - which he swore to himself that he'd wash before he did _anything_ else - he set off, leading her past every seat in their compartment, hoping someone would recognize her.

"I hope you're happy," he hissed to her, as she dawdled along. " _I_ was comfortable, and then you came along and ruined it. I was just enjoying being warm... I suppose you wouldn't know what it means to be cold." He found he hoped she didn't. Flashes of lightning and sea water and stone sent a shudder through him before he pushed them away. Then he squinted down at the cheerful little one. She smiled a gummy smile, and tugged on his hand, pointing.

"Elicia!" There was a shout, and a man and woman were tripping over their feet, trying to get out into the corridor of the train. They looked frazzled, and full of relief to see the little girl - Elicia, presumably. "Elicia, where have you been?!"

The man scooped her up into his arms, while the woman cooed in her face. Fai rolled his eyes, and then cupped his hand to his mouth.

"You're welcome!" he shouted lightly. Almost no one heard, though he saw a few people

twitch, like they were shaking off a fly. The mother looked up, confused for a moment, before turning her face back to the little girl. Ah well.

Fai tucked his hands into his pockets, and went back to his seat. Outside, past his own pale reflection, he could see vaguely the snowy hills passing by. In the morning, they'd be grassy and the air would grow warmer. He was heading _south_. South where no one would find him. South where the tang of sea water rode on the air - it was warm and different, but similar enough to make him sick - and Yuuko's temple remained untouched in the middle of a city.

That was where he was headed. Yuuko. He had to talk to Yuuko.

But first, he needed to acquire some good wine.

* * *

 **A/N** : I hope you all liked it! Feel free to ask us any questions you have and we'll do our best to answer (unless it's spoilery then no dice hehe), or any other sort of thoughts you have! We'll do our best to post chapters weekly.

We hope you enjoy our story! Thanks for reading!


	2. Temple of Fortune

Syaoran was quiet as Sakura led him down the road, holding his hand light in hers. His eyes darted to and fro, taking in every sight they could. The desert seemed to go on for miles and miles, extending past the horizon. The air was cool, but the sunshine was warm, and growing warmer the longer they walked under it. It must've been early morning when Sakura had found him, but as far as he could see, there were no settlements of any sort. No where that could be defined as a residence, especially for a god.

"Um… Sakura-sama? Just where are we going?" Syaoran asked tentatively.

"Oh!" Sakura replied excitedly. "To heaven, of course! We just need to get to a shrine, then we can go on up."

"O-oh…" Syaoran flushed. "Of course." _Should've guessed that._

It felt like he shouldn't ask too many questions. Honestly, he didn't want to bother her, even though he felt like he would burst with the amount of curiosity in his head. How were they going to ascend? Just like that? Was it some sort of magic? Did she do it often? What would it feel like? _How is it even possible?_

Syaoran clamped his mouth shut, dragging his bare feet through the sand.

"See that up there?" Sakura said excitedly, pointing ahead of them.

Syaoran squinted, looking out at a small looking structure at the side of the road. "Is that your shrine?"

"Yes, and very nice one for travellers to pray at while travelling along this road. I'm grateful to the mortal who thought to place this one here. His name was Lars, I think…"

He nodded. Not knowing what to respond with, he examined the shrine as they approached. It wasn't very large, the height of it coming up to his shoulders, so it was over a meter tall. Measure lengths would probably be easier if he knew how tall he himself was, though. The foundation was built up of smooth stones, probably to withhold against the elements. It was constructed from light colored wood, those surfaces also weathered. It was very nice overall. Simple and pretty, just like the god it represented.

He shook his head, ignoring the light blush that came over his face. "So what do we do now, Sakura-sama?"

Sakura smiled and held out her hand, wiggling her fingers. Syaoran blinked, the flush in his cheeks returning. Slowly, he took her hand again. Sakura smiled brilliantly. "Hang on and enjoy the ride!"

There was a glistening around them and then they were lifted. It was faster than he could've imagine, the flashes of colors and lights zipping by at the speed of sound. It was insane, and weirdly felt very similar to the feeling of being transformed into his regalia form. This time though it was the world around him being transformed, not his own being.

As fast as it had started, it was over. The world settled into clearer vision, but… it wasn't the world of sand and wind. There were rolling fields and forests in the distance, no longer the sandy desert. The sun felt different somehow too, not just the different feel of is rays through different regions, but it was brighter somehow. Warmer in his very spirit. Surreal. This was no longer earth, and Syaoran resisted the nausea he felt. It was so alien and beautiful, but at the same time very off putting. But not just the sight, there was different feel to the air and to the ground as he walked across it. Heaven felt fluid somehow. Strange. It wasn't something he was used to, and he wasn't entirely sure he liked it very much.

Sakura was beside him, taking in a deep breath as she seemed to visibly relax, more than she already was. "It's nice to be back," she said contentedly, more to herself than to him. Then she leaned a smile at him which brought the color rising to his face.

"C'mon, my temple's just this way. Follow me!"

"Uh- okay," he got out, letting her drag him through the grassy field.

* * *

Syaoran woke up to sunlight on his face. He squinted his eyes against it, rolling into the pillow underneath his head. But it was no use, he was awake. Letting his eyes adjust to the light, he looked around the room. The tatami floor was covered with sleeping forms, tucked into futons.

Sitting up, Syaoran figured he was awake pretty early, since no one else had budged. He stretched his arms over his head, then carefully made his way to the door, trying not to step on anyone.

 _I wonder if Sakura's awake yet_ , Syaoran thought absentmindedly as he got ready for the day. He'd been at the temple for a couple days now, and decided it really was nice. The regalia were nice, and once he'd gotten used to it, the scenery was nice. It was just a pleasant, peaceful place in Sakura's heavenly temple.

He wished he didn't feel so uncomfortable though, but that was his own problem. He figured he'd get over it as he spent more time there. Got to know more people. It was a good place with many good people, he could already see it.

Sitting down at the step before the door, he tugged on the boots he'd been given and laced them up. Then he opened the door to the bright, morning sun shining brightly. He stepped out and found himself wandering around the spacious courtyard garden. It was a truly beautiful sight. There was green grass which shone with moisture, bulky boulders strewn about artistically, and even large golden flowers which were almost as tall as he was. They stretched up to the sun, swaying a little in the light breeze.

"They're called sunflowers," someone said from behind him.

Syaoran jumped, started at the sudden voice. He turned to see Sakura's lead smirking lightly at Syaoran's startled face.

"Keroberos-san!" Syaoran said. "Uh- good morning."

"Mornin'," Keroberos replied lazily. Keroberos was a tall man, a little more than a head taller than himself. He had blond hair tied back into a ponytail, showing off the red jewel piercing in his ear. Keroberos casually slipped his hands into his pockets, tilting his head at the flowers. "And there's no need to be so wound up, kid. It's completely safe here."

"Right," Syaoran said with a nod. It wasn't really that he felt scared or unsafe, he was just a bit startled. He frowned, then looked again at the sunflowers.

Keroberos breathed in a breath, then patted Syaoran's shoulder, "So how're you liking it so far?"

Syaoran half smiled, then shrugged, "It's nice. I mean, I've never known any other place before, so there's nothing to compare it to."

"Well, yeah," Keroberos replied. "None of us can remember stuff like that!"

Syaoran's brows creased. He knew _he himself_ didn't remember his past, but he hadn't known it was the usual. "Really?" he asked, wishing there was some sort of exception to this rule.

"Obviously," the lead replied shortly.

He frowned at the lead, then the flowers which seemed more dull than they had before.

* * *

"One of the most important things for a regalia to know is how to defend themselves without milady," Rika said as she stood next to the bench where Syaoran sat.

There was a lot to remember as he trained to become a good regalia. Because of this, Syaoran was very grateful to Rika for volunteering to teach him. And that his teacher didn't end up being Keroberus. There was just an air about the lead regalia that was disconcerting, and Syaoran found that he didn't much like spending time with him.

Syaoran shrugged it off and paid attention to what Rika was telling him.

She stopped talking and lifted her hand. Before he could ask what she was doing, she sliced her fingers through the air.

"A line!"

Syaoran started at the bright light which appeared on the ground where she'd pointed.

"What is that?" Syaoran asked in awe.

Rika smiled as the line disappeared, "It's a borderline. This is something we regalia can use to shield ourselves. It'll act like a barrier between yourself and an ayakashi."

Syaoran stood in excitement, "How do I do it?"

"Well," Rika held up her hand to show the placement of the fingers. "You point with your first two fingers, and then you draw a line between yourself and what you want to protect against."

He nodded, then pulled his arm to try.

"A-a line!"

He drew the line before his feet, but nothing happened. Staring at his hand in disappointment, Rika patted his shoulder, "You don't have to get it on the first try. Keep practicing and you'll be fine."

He smiled, then turned and bowed, "Thank you, Rika-sensei."

She bowed back shyly, "If you ever have any questions, just ask me. I'll answer to the best of my knowledge."

"Yes, I will."

"So how're you getting along, Syaoran?" A voice said suddenly.

Syaoran jumped and turned to see the goddess standing right behind him. He took a few steps back and ducked into a low bow, "Good morning, Sakura-sama."

Both she and Rika giggled and Syaoran blushed. Sakura leaned down to his face level and smiled, "You don't have to be so formal. Just Sakura is fine!"

He stood up again, facing her, "Uh-"

"What have you been learning?"

"Oh," Syaoran said, glancing at Rika's encouraging face for a moment. "I just started learning how to use borderlines."

Sakura clapped, "I'm sure you'll pick it up right away, Syaoran."

Syaoran blinked, then smiled, "Thank you, Sakura-sama."

"I told you you don't have to be so formal," Sakura pouted with her hands on her hips. He blushed again and nodded.

"I'm sorry."

He practiced a good while more with Rika until it was time for dinner. Syaoran ate, but just wanted to go out and continue practicing. Which he did, resolving to do so on his own, he didn't want to burden Rika anymore than he already was.

"A line!" Syaoran shouted, his voice echoing across the empty courtyard as the sun set across the sky, fading the light into twilight.

Not even a flash. He breathed out harshly in frustration. It shouldn't have been this hard! It looked like no effort at all when Rika did it.

"A line!" He tried again to no avail.

This was protection. It was important. He'd been taught, so why couldn't he do it?

He'd been found as an empty spirit, with no memory and nothing to give. Yet, he was taken in by a kind and beautiful goddess. She was the most amazing person he'd ever met. (Although he hadn't met that many people, but still). She'd given him everything, including the very name he had begun to identify as his own. He wanted to give something back to her.

But he couldn't even draw the borderline.

"Damn it," he muttered under his breath.

"You shouldn't get too worked up."

Syaoran jerked his head up in the direction of the voice. _What was it with these people always sneaking up on him?_

A man with dark hair and brilliant blue eyes stood a ways away from him on the small, wooden bridge which arched over the koi pond. Eriol, Syaoran recalled his name being. Eriol smiled as he pushed his glasses up his nose. Syaoran eyed him for a moment before walking to join him on the bridge. They were silent for a few minutes, but it was pressing silence where Syaoran wasn't sure if he should say something or wait for Eriol to.

"Eriol-san, uh.." Syaoran started, but trailed off. Not entirely sure of what he was trying to say.

"What I meant before is that you shouldn't get too worked up, for the lady's sake."

His brows furrowed, "What?"

Eriol smiled at him again, his expression seemed strangely distant in the waning light of twilight, "Has no one explained it you yet?"

"I've just learned the borderline," Syaoran said, confused at how disconcerting it was to talk to this man.

"But no one explained to you to connection between the regalia and their master?"

The conversation was just getting more and more confusing. Between regalia and god? He and Sakura?

"No," he replied.

Eriol leaned against the rail, looking up at the pale moon, "Well, whatever a regalia feels directly affects his god. Happiness, sadness, shame, anger. Sakura-chan will feel it all."

Syaoran didn't say anything. He thought back to all the times he could remember, feeling lost or upset or angry. Had he hurt Sakura? Was he hurting her right now? He ran his hand through his already disheveled hair, face distraught

"Rika-san is your teacher, yes?"

Wordlessly, Syaoran nodded.

"I wonder why she didn't choose to teach you this first. It is very important. The pain a regalia can unintentionally inflict on their master can be quite severe. Deadly on some occasions," Eriol said this nonchalantly, as if he were talking about the weather.

It almost felt like someone had punched him in the stomach. Hard enough to leave him breathless. _Deadly?_ He couldn't even imagine what kind of pain that would be to pass on a deadly amount. And without knowing, he could've done that to Sakura if he'd had such intense emotions. To even think of Sakura in that kind of pain hurt him down to the bone. He would do whatever it took to avoid that.

Eriol smiled and patted his shoulder, "Don't worry so much. Sakura-chan hasn't been stung in quite a long time. And if you keep a level head about you, then you won't be the one to break that record."

"Just be honest with yourself and with Sakura-chan. She values and relies on truly genuine people."

Syaoran closed his eyes, then nodded.

"Thank you, Eriol-san."

They were quiet again, but it was more comfortable on Syaoran's part. Or maybe that was because he was thinking about how wonderful Sakura was and how grateful he was for being taken in by her. Syaoran sighed softly, leaning against the rail of the bridge.

Feeling eyes on him, Syaoran glanced up to see Eriol smiling that vague smile at him. He shifted and rubbed the back of his neck, that comfortable feeling was completely gone.

"About your troubles with the borderline. Just remember that it's protection not just for yourself. It's a shield to protect those things that are most precious to you. If you stay calm and focus on that and nothing else, you will become much stronger than you are now."

Syaoran looked back to the rippling water beneath them, the now risen moon reflected its light on the uneven surface.

 _The thing most precious to me._ Syaoran frowned at the thought. _I don't even remember what that could be._

There was plenty of space in the temple, but there really weren't many places to go where he could be completely alone. Apparently everyone enjoyed chatting with the newest members, which was nice, but a few days of near-constant attention was incredibly more draining than he would've imagined.

At the end of the day, when most everyone was settling down to sleep, he shut himself in the bathing room and let out a shaky breath. It was almost as if a barrier fell as soon as the others couldn't see him. A sort of numbness, spreading a creeping heat and chill across his shoulders and neck, then down his arms and over his chest. A twinge of nausea settled in his stomach.

The benefit of being alone was that he could think without so many distractions, and he definitely had accumulated plenty of things to think about.

 _Why can I feel this?_

That was one of the only facts he knew to be irrevocably true: That he was dead. Then why could he feel those physical things? Goosebumps had risen along his bare arms in the warm, humid, bathing room. He breathed in the steam and could smell the herbs that were infused in the water. On his fingertips there was scratches from when he'd climbed the wall out of the pit, where Sakura-sama had found him. They'd healed some over the few days he'd been at the temple, though they still throbbed a bit when he touched them.

It was strange to say the least. Jarring. His thoughts were a jumble, separated into the things he knew and an empty space of the things he didn't. Those vanished memories which should exist, but somehow didn't. It didn't make any sense.

He put it aside for the time being, and concentrated on cleaning the dust from his skin. He needed something to do with his hands, to distract himself from thinking right then. Rising off the excess dirt and soap from his skin, he sat himself in the bath. The water was hot, but comfortably so. The world was dark outside the window, thus the light reflecting on it from the inside room illuminated the glass. He could see his face in its reflection. Save for the condensation from the steam, it would have been as clear as a mirror. Biting his lip, he wiped his hand across the surface until the image was discernable.

It was the first time, that he could remember, seeing himself. (He hadn't really looked hard at a mirror much). Syaoran leaned towards the reflection, taking it in. His first thought was how _young_ he looked. Much younger than he would've expected. It startled him, realizing that he most likely couldn't have died of natural causes, not at such a young age.

He swallowed nervously, wanting to put aside those dark thoughts. Instead, he focused on the other features he possessed. His hair was brown, darkened with dampness. His eyes were brown as well, the light catching flecks of oranges and reds in his irises. Being dead, he would have expected paler skin, but his tone was closer to the tan color of the dusty desert. He'd probably spent a lot of time in the sun. Taking in a sharp breath, he turned away from the reflection.

Before fully turning away, he caught sight of the red mark on his back. He tried to twist to get a better look at it.

 _The name_ , Syaoran thought as he looked at the word ingrained into the skin of his left shoulder, above the bone. The lines of the design swept together neatly to spell out the character.

 _Ran._ His name, bestowed upon him by Sakura-sama. He touched his fingertips to it, feeling the surface. It didn't feel like ink, or paint, the texture was identical to the rest of his skin. It was as if it was some sort of birthmark. Ingrained into him. Part of him.

He settled back into the water, right hand sliding to the front of his shoulder. There was quiet in the room as he thought; the lapping of the water against the edge of the bath echoing being the only sound.

 _Who am I?_

Syaoran thought again. It was almost like an itch he couldn't quite reach. An emptiness in his mind and heart. The only sense of identity he had was something given to him that morning. Before that, he had nothing. No childhood, no family, nothing. It scared him. There were so many questions, but he wasn't sure how to word them or who to ask.

Syaoran sighed. He shouldn't be thinking about so many things. His negative emotions could harm Sakura. He laid his head back against the tub, letting the steam swirl around him, trying to think of nothing.

* * *

 **A/N:** Thank you for reading! Stay tuned for more Fai and Youou (Kurogane) in chapter 3! Also don't forget to go read the xxxHolic side of this!


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